


The Day Lance Died

by VulpesVulpes713



Series: Fictober 2018 [15]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Fictober 2018, M/M, Sad, klance, major character death so yeah, watch out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 17:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: Prompt:“I felt it. You know what I mean.”Bonus prompt from angst anon: “I’d rather die with you than live without you.”





	The Day Lance Died

There had been a pain in his chest, the day Lance died.

Though he hadn’t known the cause behind it at the time. All there was was a sharp, almost  _searing_  throb that had begun in his upper left rib cage and spread out across his body, like having dry ice course through his veins.

It was cold. Numbing. Unbearable. But it only lasted a moment.

And so Keith hadn’t paid it much mind after it had passed, thinking maybe he had pinched a nerve, or experienced some aftershock from a wound. It was hard to tell where most of his aches and discomforts came from after joining the Blades.

All Keith knew was that it had been a feeling he could never explain: one that had no equal.

One that he never wanted to experience again.

It was only after he’d re-joined the team again, recounting their own adventures one night when things were relatively calm, that he had learned the truth about what he’d felt that day.

There had been a pain in his chest, the day Lance died.

Allura’s confession had come at a shock, and Lance’s own somber expression had only added to the severity of her words.

That Lance had been dead for a minute or so. Nothing longer. But still too long.  _Too long._

But Lance, being Lance, had noticed the mood of the room after admitting he’d been a momentary member of the deceased club, and had promptly grinned and waved them all off, going so far as to fist-bump Shiro with a wink in shared experience.

_“It’s no big deal. Everybody dies.”_

_True,_  Keith remembers thinking.  _But not you. Not yet. And they don’t typically come back._

Not that he’d been about to argue with whatever miracle had occurred. He recalls being immediately grateful to Allura after that. More so than he already was. What would have happened had she not been there? God…Keith didn’t want to think about it.

Afterwards he had pulled Lance aside - phantom traces of pain sneaking across his chest - and confessed what he’d experienced that day.

_“ **I felt it,**  when you died.”_

To which Lance had raised an eyebrow and made a joke that Keith knew was the child of discomfort.

So he’d sighed, and brushed off the teasing before it could start.

_“ **You know what I mean.** ”_

_“Sure Keith, whatever you say.”_

They didn’t speak about it after that.

And as time went on, Keith eventually forgot about the incident. There were too many distractions that took priority, and war didn’t allow much room for reminiscence. Not that Keith wanted to linger on that all-encompassing minute or so of absolute devastation, nor the prospect of a life sans Lance. So he’d forgotten.

Let it go.

It became a part of his past. A one-time occurrence. Just another bizarre event to be left among unfamiliar stars.

There had been a pain in his chest, the day Lance died.

And Keith thought he’d never feel it again.

But war has a funny way of bringing back memories that are best left forgotten, and Keith experiences a sickening sense of déja vù as it all comes rushing back.That same sensation, followed by a weighted dread as he watches it all unfold in front of his eyes.

He can do nothing. Can say nothing. Can hear nothing. There’s a foul taste on his tongue, but he can’t swallow it away. Because he’s yelling now, but there’s no sound. He’s ice: crystallized and frozen stiff.

And all he can do is watch, no matter how hard he tries to do  _anything_  else.

A bullet.

A gasp.

A single tear, fallen from blue eyes that cling to him from across the room.

Desperate.

Pleading.

Aghast.

Emotions that are unfamiliar on Lance’s face. Ones that Keith never wanted to see, ever. No matter what.

And yet, here he is, witnessing them. Able to do nothing but stare in shock as his pillar of strength crumbles to dust, like the cloud that rises up as Lance falls.

Somehow his legs move. Somehow he reaches him. But he’s slow, like running through molasses with boots made of lead. He cradles Lance in his arms - cries as memories from times long ago rise to the forefront of his mind - and watches as his tears fall helplessly on smooth brown skin.

“Lance-please-” he’s choking. He can’t talk. He  _can’t do this!_

But a hand reaches for his, and blue eyes make their way up to his face, fading, like watching clouds slip over the sky.

“You can’t go!” he shouts. To whoever is listening. “You can’t  _leave me!”_

And Lance smiles, despite the pain he must be in. He smiles, and it’s real. It’s genuine. It’s the smile that only Keith gets to see. The one Lance shared with him not so long ago, back when they’d had time to confess how they’d felt.

A time that was not nearly long enough.

But Keith cherishes that smile, even as it shatters his heart into fragments of jagged glass.

“Keith,” and it’s a whisper, but Keith can hear it better than anything he’s ever heard before. There’s only Lance. Nothing else. “I won’t be far.”

“W-what does that mean-” he’s sobbing now, thinking if he holds Lance tighter it’ll keep him here longer. Here with him. Where he belongs.

“I’ll be here,” Lance says, as if reading his mind, and his hand shifts down to the place on Keith’s chest where a gaping hole is forming, swallowing him up as he watches that smile meant just for him waver. “I’ll be here. I won’t go anywhere.”

But Keith knows. He  _knows!_

“Don’t go where I can’t find you,” he’s pleading now, grasping desperately for anything to keep the light in Lance’s eyes lit. To keep his star from burning out. “ **I’d rather _die with you_  than live without you**!”

And Lance…he  _laughs!_ And the sound embeds itself in Keith’s soul, the echo loud and chipping away at his being. But he lets it, and shoves away the thought that this will be the last time he hears that laugh. Because Lance isn’t dying. He can’t. Keith won’t allow it!

“Then do me a favour,” Lance urges, holding out his pinky, “and live for us both.”

He can’t.

He can’t…

He can’t-!

“Keith-”

He takes Lance’s pinky, wrapping it with his own. It’s a promise that he doesn’t want to make, but he does. Because it’s for Lance.

And it’s the only thing Keith can do for him at this point.

“Don’t-please, Lance, you can’t-”

“I love you.”

It’s a whisper: so soft that Keith is almost convinced it’s just a passing breeze playing tricks with his head.

But he knows what he heard. He saw the words formed on Lance’s lips.

And it thoroughly destroys whatever was left of him.

There had been a pain in his chest, the day Lance died.

Only this time it doesn’t fade.

This time it lingers.

And Keith wishes for nothing more than to turn to ice, like the blood in his veins, like the husk of his heart, shattered and useless.

Like the asteroid he is, drifting aimlessly in the absence of his sun…his star.

He cries. For a long time he cries.

He cries until his tears have more colour than the eyes he’d come to adore. He cries until the others find them, and he cries as they cry, surrounding the broken body of their fallen friend.

He cries until there’s nothing left, and he succumbs to that hollow numbness that eats away at him. He doesn’t fight it. He lets it swallow him up. He wishes it would finish the job and just-just…

But he made a promise. And he can’t go back on his word.

So he carries that pain in his chest from the day Lance died. And no matter how hard it gets - no matter how often he wishes he could fade away and feel anything else besides that pain, or else feel  _nothing_  at all - he remembers Lance’s smile.

He hears his laughter.

And he feels the pressure of a pinky wrapped tight around his own.

_“Then do me a favour, and live for us both.”_

There’s a pain in his chest, from the day Lance died.

And Keith survives with it. Somehow, he learns.

He promised to, after all.  

So he does.

He lives, and with the help of his friends and family he boxes in that pain. Feels it, still, but it gets easier. Tolerable, almost. He lives off the memories. He lives off the shared moments. He lives off the smiles, and the whispered laughs, and the feeling of arms wrapped around him, and the taste of lips against his own.

And as time goes on, living becomes less of a chore. Because Keith knows Lance wouldn’t have wanted a life lived in remorse. He would have wanted joy, and laughter, and peace, and love…

He deserved those things, so Keith tries, as best as he’s able, to live a life worthy of Lance.

And he lives, as he promised he would.

He lives for Lance, despite the pain in his chest, from the day he died.


End file.
